


Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love

by Engineer104, hailqiqi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fluff, Round Robin, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailqiqi/pseuds/hailqiqi
Summary: Pidge was only at the Garrison to find her family, not her soulmate. Lance had always had a picture of a his 'perfect' soulmate in mind....until reality smacks them both.---A canon-verse soulmate AU, written Round Robin style





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the story goes that [hailqiqi](hailqiqi.tumblr.com/) had the brilliant idea of writing a round robin fic based on a specific soulmate mark thing idea revolving around one pivotal (or like we made it pivotal in this AU ha) moment...
> 
> ...and thus Smack, Kiss, Fall in Love was born!!
> 
> the way it worked is that we took turns writing different installments, each one intended to be between 500 and 1000 words (except we also each failed multiple times). I started and wrote Pidge's parts, and Hail wrote Lance's parts
> 
> and now it is ended, and we're posting it on ao3!!
> 
> (First chapter corresponds to [this post](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175189482398/hello-and-welcome-to-my-and-hailqiqis-round))

Logically it couldn’t happen, not so dramatically, but in that moment time slowed. 

Her mouth functioned faster than her brain, quick to harangue Commander Iverson, to call him out on his lies. Later she might consider that it was stupidity more than fury that made her bold, if her mind wasn’t so preoccupied by what happened after.

Lance slipped a hand over her mouth and tugged her towards him, and Pidge thought nothing of it, not even bothering to fight against his hold.

Too livid to make note of the heat on her face as anything more than an angry flush, too distracted to notice the tingle in her skin.

Pidge glared at Iverson over Lance’s hand, and when his attention was finally diverted he let her go.

Before Iverson even dismissed them, Lance spun around to stare at her and demand, “What is  _wr_ \--” His eyes widened, and he pointed to her chin, an odd strangled sound escaping his lips.

“What?” Pidge touched her chin, and when she caught sight of Hunk gaping at her she pressed, “Is there something on my face?”

Lance looked from her face to the upturned palm of his hand - right where his soulmark was - but before Pidge caught a glimpse he curled his fingers into a fist and held it behind his back. “It’s, uh, it’s your...soulmark,” Lance muttered.

“What?” Pidge reached up to her face again, as if she could feel the seamless black outline of a hand encircling her lips. “What about it?”

Before Lance or Hunk could reply, a fellow cadet let out a low whistle. “Congratulations, guys! Looks like Ladies’ Man Lance caught a lad instead.”

The cadet caught a few snickers, but Lance rolled his eyes and retorted, “At least he’s smarter than  _your_  soulmate!”

For an instant Lance’s defense surprised her, until she processed what was happening.

(Later, when she looks in the mirror, her lips will be outlined in vibrant colors with the shape of a long-fingered hand. And later, she’ll have to come to turns that Lance has a matching mark on his palm.)

Pidge scowled, but her mind reeled too fast for her to formulate a proper response of her own, not when her face was now flushed under the attention of all her classmates, and not when Commander Iverson’s gaze snapped away from the team in the simulator and onto them.

All activity stilled, the last chuckles fading while Hunk tugged Lance away from the cadet that insulted him.

Pidge couldn’t feel too sympathetic, not when she’d heard worse directed at  _her_.

Iverson glanced at Pidge, one of his eyebrows quirking up in mild surprise while he said, “That’s...unexpected.”

It was his one and only comment, but Pidge couldn’t bring herself to express any gratitude, not when tension lay thickly over her team.

She’d never let Lance get close, not as long as she’d known him, but though only Hunk stood between them, a gap as wide as Valles Marineris still kept them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has [fan art](https://ineedtowatermyplance.tumblr.com/post/176117954986/logically-it-couldnt-happen-not-so) by the amazing [Beary](ineedtowatermyplance.tumblr.com)!!
> 
> all things Smack, Kiss can be found (at least on my blog) [here on tumblr](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/tagged/smack-kiss-fall-in-love). if you're not caught up, be mindful of spoilers!! ~~do people care about being spoiled when it comes to fan fiction~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Lance PoV brought to you by [hailqiqi](hailqiqi.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175199301954/shockingly-enough-heres-my-prompt-continuation)
> 
> Season 1 Lance is _so much fun to write_ , but I gotta admit that I felt like an asshole before I got into it (as much as we love him, the dude was a _jerk_ ). Also, I really wanted to kinda reverse the Lance-is-secretly-bi fandom trope here.

“Oh man, this is _bad_. How could this happen to me?!”  
  
The casual shrug of Hunk’s shoulder did nothing to assuage Lance’s anxiety. “Hey, you finally found your soulmate, so that’s a plus, right?”  
  
“Hunk. Buddy. _I’m not gay_.”  
  
Hunk raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that? Cause those colours on your hand? They tell a different story.”  
  
“Ughhhhh,” Lance groaned as he ran his now-vividly coloured hand through his hair, trying to imagine getting lost in beautiful brown eyes, tasting Pidge’s pert, rosy lips, running his hands over the _hard_ planes of his chest… Gross. Something short-circuited in his brain and he flopped back onto his bunk, fighting back a wave of repulsion. “Nope. Not even a little bit.”  
  
Dread came next. What if _Pidge_ was gay? He was so feminine it wouldn’t surprise Lance, and while he didn’t wanna bang the dude, he didn’t wanna break his heart, either.  
  
Hunk winced sympathetically when he told him as much. “I dunno, Lance. Maybe once you get to know him you’ll feel different. You might be demi-bi or something.”  
  
“That is _not_ a thing, dude,” Lance said, lifting his head to stare at him incredulously. “Besides, Pidge said he’s got ‘more important things to worry about’.”  
  
“Like how our teamwork totally sucks to the point where we might all get expelled? Cause if he meant that then yeah, I agree.”  
  
Lance scowled, then… Huh. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone here.

* * *

Later that night he sat on the porch of Keith’s shack, his mind _reeling_.  
  
Shiro was passed out inside. Shiro. His _hero_. The legend who’d flown farther than _any other human_. And then died in space, but now he was not-dead, and like less than 5 feet away.  
  
He was jerked from his thoughts by Hunk grabbing his hand and holding it up. “This guy. It only happened today, actually.”  
  
Lance grumbled and took his hand back. He should’ve guessed they’d be talking soulmates. The green-and-blue swirls splotched over Pidge’s face weren’t exactly inconspicuous.  
  
Keith stared between him and Pidge, frowning. “What the hell, Lance? Did nobody ever tell you not to hit girls?”  
  
What the… How did someone so _stupid_ end up top of the class?!  
  
Hunk bust out laughing and Pidge started spluttering incoherently, while Lance gesticulated wildly, waving in Pidge’s general direction. “Dude! He’s a guy! And I didn’t hit him, I covered his mouth before he lost it at Iverson!”  
  
Keith looked between them again, one eyebrow raised, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

* * *

None of them had slept well that night, but Hunk still seemed to have the wherewithal to direct him through the scraps of unrecognisable junk Keith had been hoarding. Lance fetched the pieces without complaint, mind still refusing to process everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.  
  
“So, about Pidge…”  
  
Lance groaned and looked up. “Yeah?”  
  
Hunk studied him carefully, screwdriver in hand, before breaking into a grin Lance knew all too well. “Actually, nevermind. You can find out for yourself.”  
  
He wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard Lance pushed.

* * *

They were at the edge of the solar system, staring into a wormhole to who-knew-where, and Lance found his eyes drawn to Pidge.  
  
Pidge put his hand on his shoulder and nodded, a dogged determination in his gaze, and Lance felt himself fall just a tiny bit in love.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175230576033/and-i-must-confess-this-one-was-hard-continuation)

Pidge didn’t have time, not when she knew something of Matt’s fate - and nothing of her father’s.

Pidge didn’t have time to be a “defender of the universe” or a Paladin of Voltron, and if she didn’t have time to end a millennia-long intergalactic mind-bogglingly _huge_ war, then she certainly didn’t have time for her soulmate.

No, Pidge had no more time for Lance than she did at the Garrison _before_ they made this discovery.

But while she stuffed snacks and party favors into a tote bag, a part of her almost convinced her she owed him... _something_ , especially when they’d scarcely spoken since the Blue Lion whisked them away from their own solar system.

Millions of light-years from home, and somehow one of her weightiest problems was the livid green-and-blue pattern decorating her face.

Pidge stood at the center of a grand ballroom of the strangest and _greatest_ piece of engineering she’d ever seen, staring up the wide staircase and watching Lance’s hunched figure retreating.

Lance... _leaving_ a gathering? The very idea niggled at the back of her mind, something about it feeling so _wrong_.

Pidge turned towards the stairs, her fingers tightening around the straps of her tote bag and her jaw stiffening, Rover following closely.

Allura slid into her path a beat later, a bright smile plastered on her face.

Pidge grimaced, frustration filling her, and it only grew worse when Allura continued to thwart her attempts at putting effort into her relationship with her apparent soulmate for once.

(A soulmate she might never see again.)

Perhaps it was her preoccupation both with finding her family - with being so _close_ compared to where her mission stood mere days ago - and with saying something to Lance, but while Allura kept probing, Pidge gave in:

“I’m leaving Team Voltron.” 

* * *

 

Everyone protested her decision, everyone tried to talk her out of it, except Hunk, who seized on the hope her words presented.

Except Lance, who Pidge knew so _poorly_ she couldn’t even predict if his reaction would be more similar to Hunk’s or to Keith’s.

Her fingertips brushed the mark on her face, her short-lived team’s voices fading away.

Pidge’s heart jumped into her throat, filling her with the odd sensation of flying, and when it dropped…

The Castle shuddered, dust falling from the ceiling and a tremor shaking her bones. She nearly stumbled, Arusian party guests yelling in alarm while Allura and Shiro struggled to calm them and maintain control.

“What was that?” Keith demanded, his gaze fixed on the high ceiling.

“That blast came from the bridge,” Allura guessed. Her eyes narrowing, she picked up her skirts and sprinted for the stairs.

The bridge...the stairs…

Pidge followed, Rover and Hunk both hot on her heels. By the time they reached their target, she gasped for breath.

Coran crouched, clutching his head and slowly getting to his feet, and just beyond him the smoke cleared, revealing a destroyed crystal and--

_Lance._

Her heart dropped into her stomach, her jaw dropping in shock. She tried to step towards him, but her feet refused to move.

_Is he--?_

The same shock didn’t grip Shiro, and he was quick to lift Lance from the floor and check his vital signs.

 _He’s alive,_ Pidge tried to reassure herself, and she said, “We have to get Lance to the infirmary!”

 _He can’t die,_ she thought, her hands curling into fists.

But why not? Because he was her teammate, her maybe friend? Or because he was her soulmate?

Pidge barely knew him, and she owed him nothing...but there he lay unconscious in Shiro’s arms.

Guilt stirred in her stomach, guilt that she hadn’t put in any effort to befriend him, to _let_ him befriend her, guilt that she might never get the chance.

Guilt that she would leave her new team so soon after their mission began.

While they planned how best to protect the Arusians, how to repair the defenseless marvel that was the Castle, Pidge made her second and most important decision of the night.

 _I’m sorry, Matt,_ she thought, biting her lip. _And I’m sorry, Dad._

The universe needed her more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where I (hailqiqi) began to have copious amounts of rollicking fun with this project (and Reem probably started hating me). 
> 
> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175240280114/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-there-its-been-titled)

One of the things that had initially surprised Lance when he moved to America was that when you got down to it, people were all the same.

Parties were a good example of that. It didn’t matter if the hosts and guests spoke Spanish or English (or, in one case, Navajo): everyone always gathered together with some good-natured awkwardness until the food and the alcohol started flowing. Then someone would get the kids riled up, the oldest attendees would follow suit, and you’d end up with a raucous celebration of life and a tonne of fond (and sometimes embarrassing) memories.

As it turned out, these weren’t just human traits. Once the grandmas had started bringing food up to the surface the Balmerans had slowly dropped the admiration and began talking to the paladins like normal people. Then the cave moss juice had appeared, Lance had taught a bunch of kids how to mambo, the grand-dads had joined in and now he was chilling on a glowing, living, magical space crystal watching a horde of unwieldy aliens dancing (for what was apparently the very first time) to music somehow played from his phone over the Castle loudspeakers.

There was no denying it. Lance’s life had become really freaking _weird_ lately.

Three weeks ago his life was all about studying and sneaking out and calling home. Hanging out with Hunk, looking sharp and breaking hearts — normal Lance stuff. Now he was an elite fighter pilot flying a sentient giant lion, had had four other people in his head, and liberated an entire _planet_.

What the cheesy quiznak.

He’d even found his soulmate. He glanced around, quickly spotting Pidge sitting on a crystal a few metres away, watching the dancing like the wallflower _she_ apparently was.

Lance still wasn’t used to that. The girl thing. He was just coming around to the idea of resigning himself to some weird platonic relationship and finding his lovin’ elsewhere when Pidge had made her announcement to the team, and honestly? He should have been ecstatic, but he had no idea what to think.

Pidge wasn’t exactly what he’d been hoping for in a soulmate. She wasn’t a babe like the princess, and she was so nerdy he couldn’t understand her half the time. Her hair was a mess, she barely came up to his shoulders, and she was stand-offish and defensive about _everything_. He had to admit he was impressed by her tenacity, her intelligence, the way she faced down Shiro on the training mat and didn’t even flinch, but… Well. She hadn’t even bothered to tell him she was a girl.

That stung more than a little. He took another sip and watched her watch the crowd, a frown on his face. Keith had reamed him out on the way back from the Nyma debacle, saying that he needed to figure out a way to broach the distance if he wanted anything like a good relationship. Lance figured if Pidge had been too interested in the robot to even notice he was missing (never mind that he’d taken off with another girl — who was a total babe, public bondage kink aside) then she didn’t exactly care, either, but…

They had to start somewhere.

Downing the rest of his drink for courage, he pushed himself off the crystal and walked over to her. She turned around at his footsteps, eyes widening in surprise when he offered her a hand and said over the ruckus: “So, d’you wanna dance?”

Pidge blinked a few times, gaze darting to the dancers before meeting his again. “I… Uh, wearing this?!”

She gestured at her armour and Lance laughed, somewhat surprised at how easy it felt. “What’s wrong with it? I’m not exactly dressed up either, y’know?”

“Sure, but you’re more than a full head taller than me and I don’t have heels! Plus, these boots are way too grippy.”

Those were very...specific complaints. Lance paused. “Wait, you can actually dance?”

“Uh…” Pidge looked away, a pretty shade of pink blooming on her cheeks. “I uh, I did ballet for about 10 years, then Latin ballroom for...almost two? Mostly because I wanted something different. I’ve never done mambo before, though,” she added.

 _Oh_. So they _did_ have something in common, after all. Lance couldn’t help the grin, but Pidge must have misinterpreted it because her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “C’mon. I won the provincial championship twice in middle school. If you can follow, we can work around the rest.”

Pidge laughed dubiously, but placed her gloved hand in his and let him lead her over to the dance area. Lance spent a few minutes teaching her the basic steps, and soon enough they were moving together with minimal issues. Well, Lance had to bend his knees way too much, and Pidge kept slipping into cha cha instead of mambo, and their boots really _were_ too grippy to dance in (but he was grateful for the armour anyway, since the Balmerans around them had accidentally smacked them more than once in their exuberance) but… Lance was actually having a good time.

With _Pidge_ , of all people.

He looked down at her, and she smiled back. This close up, he could see the freckles dusting her pale skin, the long lashes that framed expressive brown eyes sparkling with mischief, the way her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat from their dancing. The stupid blue and green mask covering the bottom half of her face was _really_ distracting but he supposed he’d get used to it, and it would fade eventually anyway.

He twirled her, considering. Pidge definitely wasn’t the surfer babe of his dreams, but she was pretty enough. And it turned out she was kinda fun to hang out with.

Plus, they were soulmates, so. Why not?

Decision made, he caught her in his arms on the return and turned on the charm.

“Hey girl, am I turning you voltr-on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I did wayyyy more research than necessary for this chapter, you can check out my notes/conclusions if you fancy!](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175250972354/im-gonna-be-honest-i-did-way-more-research-than)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175258169333/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-five)

It was no mystery why she agreed to dance with him, that she should _want_ to get to know someone “just ‘cause”, whether circumstance stranded them together or the colors on her face and in the palm of his hand declared them soulmates.

So Pidge danced with Lance, and despite their _technical_ difficulties, she enjoyed it, a thoughtless smile stretching across her face while an unfamiliar warmth filled her. She lost herself in the effortless intimacy of the shared - if unpracticed - motions.

Her heart pounded with the adrenaline rush when Lance spun her back into his arms. He grinned at her with mirth in his eyes.

The worst words possible fell from his mouth.

“Hey girl, am I turning you voltr-on?”

Pidge’s eyes widened, a humiliated heat rushing to her face while the heaviness of disappointment filled her. She pressed on his shoulders, shoving him away to slip from his grasp.

Lance stared at her. “What?” he said, reaching for her again - only for her to take a step back. “We were having a good time!”

“Well, I’m done now!”

“But--”

“You’re only dancing with me because I’m your soulmate--”

“Isn’t that what I’m _supposed_ to do?”

“--and you’re only now pleased with that because you found out I’m a girl!” She crossed her arms, holding herself stiffly. She _wanted_ to storm away, maybe find Hunk if he wasn’t in the midst of a crowd of Balmerans like the last time she spotted him, but her need to make Lance understand kept her rooted.

“Th-that’s not true!” Lance stuttered, leaning towards her.

“Oh, isn’t it?” Pidge retorted, tone scathing. “A pickup line? _Seriously_?”

“What else was I supposed to say?” Lance demanded, his voice rising.

“I don’t know, but I think I deserve better than that from you,” Pidge told him.

“It’s a harmless joke meant to break the ice,” Lance said, throwing up his hands. “If I knew it would’ve upset you this much--”

“Then consider the ice broken.” Pidge spun around, fuming, the shock on his face too much for her.

She pushed through the crowd, her anger fading as a lump lodged itself in her throat.

There was no reason to be this upset; so Lance learned she was a girl? He only resorted to the first thing he would do when meeting any girl he found remotely attractive.

Wait, did that mean he thought _Pidge_ attractive?

(Did it even matter?)

Of all the fickle boys in the _universe_ \--

“Pidge, are you okay?”

She jumped, colliding with Shiro’s chest before he stepped back to look her in the face. She glanced away and muttered, “I’m fine. I was just...dancing with Lance.”

“That’s new.” Shiro grinned. “You sorting out your issues?”

Pidge bit her lip, shuffling her feet as she admitted, “We might’ve made a few more.”

Shiro said, “I see.”

“It’s fine.” Pidge forced a laugh. “I mean, it’s just Lance, right? Even if he _did_ like me, he’d be over it in a few days. He’ll spare me the trouble of getting attached.”

“Pidge--”

She slipped around him and sprinted for the Castle before he could say another word. 

* * *

Between Yalexian pearls and pulsing violet crystals and comatose enemy generals, it was easy for Pidge to avoid facing Lance with no one else around. If he tried approaching her, she just found Hunk or Shiro and used them as a buffer against Lance.

And every time one asked, Pidge told him she needed time.

Time for what? Time to waste? Time for Lance to grow _accustomed_ to her being a girl?

Time to pretend that she hadn’t stood on the precipice of caring about someone more than she could afford with her father and brother missing?

(She was no stranger to crushes; she _knew_ they preoccupied thoughts more than a friend would.)

Hunk disagreed.

“Well,” he said with an infuriatingly reasonable tone when he showed up in the Green Lion’s hangar unannounced, “you could’ve told him you were a girl at anytime after you found out about the whole”--he gestured to his chin--”soulmate thing.”

“Why? It didn’t change anything immediately anyway.” Pidge narrowed her eyes at her computer, watching data from Sendak’s crystal fly across the screen. “Is there anything more _important_ you wanted to talk about?”

“Guess not,” Hunk said. “But honestly? The tension between you two is _killing_ me.”

“I’ll take that into account next time I don’t talk to Lance,” Pidge grumbled, rolling her eyes.

“See that you do,” Hunk said without irony.

Pidge scowled at the crystal when he finally left. “At least _you_ don’t care if I’m a girl _or_ your soulmate.” 

* * *

“I think we should see other people.”

Pidge rubbed her eyes, half-convinced she still slept and dreamed. Her mind couldn’t properly comprehend the nonsensical words, which was what she deserved when she answered the knock on her bedroom door without checking who stood outside.

“We weren’t”--a wide yawn cut her off--”even seeing each other.”

“That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?” Lance shrugged. “We’re _not_ seeing each other, and, well, I don’t know about you but I’ve nearly died twice in just the last month--”

“Once,” Pidge corrected automatically.

Lance raised an eyebrow, holding up two fingers. “No, twice. The first time was in that blast, the second when King Alfor’s ghost nearly shot me out of an airlock.”

And _now_ Pidge was awake, her eyes shooting wide open. “Wait, what?”

“But anyway,” Lance plowed on as if he couldn’t sense her shock, “what I’m trying to say is...I’m sorry, and I want us to be friends.” He held out his right hand - the same hand with the swirling green-and-blue pattern that matched the one stretching across her face.

“I--”

“I’m tired of everything being awkward,” he said. “It feels too much like the flight simulator, and I…” He raised his hand, examining his palm. “We never even shook hands when we met.”

Pidge stared at the offered hand. “If we had, that might’ve saved us some trouble,” she said, trying for a teasing tone.

She wanted this out he provided, the release of _pressure_ to act on the tie that existed between them without either of their consent. But she couldn’t help hesitating.

“Maybe.” Lance chuckled. “So…?”

Pidge grinned and took his hand in hers, her palm pressed against his soulmark. “Friends first?”

Lance returned her smile and shook her hand. “Friends and teammates first.”

A weight fell from Pidge’s shoulders at the confirmation, a relieved giggle escaping her. “Thank _quiznak_.”

(If only she could dismiss her irritation at his daydreaming about other girls so easily.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I completely forgot to update this... sorry guys!
> 
> Enjoy some Asshole Lance before the growth began.
> 
> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175286567454/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-six)

“I can’t believe it. A mermaid kissed me.”

Hunk didn’t reply. Lance ignored the lack of enthusiasm and sighed, feeling his cheeks heat up at the memory of Plaxum’s lips.  His first kiss, and it was from a mermaid!

He spun around in mid-water, blasting himself towards Hunk with exuberance. “C’mon, Hunk! In the last few days we fought the biggest, baddest dude in the universe and got away alive, rescued an entire civilisation and now _I’ve_ been kissed by a _mermaid!_ ”

Hunk grabbed him by his arm and used it to redirect his momentum, yanking him back at the last second to stop him from ploughing head-first into the wall. Lance gave a yell, then, when he realised he wasn’t about to careen into hurts-ville, tugged at his arm instead. “Hey! What gives?”

“You,” Hunk began,  waving his gloved hand in his face meaningfully, “— should be kissing _Pidge_ , not some random mermaid.”

“Relax, Hunk,” Lance said, finally freeing his hand only to wave it in Hunk’s face. “We agreed to see other people.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to all that about your soulmate being the love of your life, your one and only, huh? Did you just, y’know, forget about that?”

Lance made a face. “Look, she’s not interested in me, and I’m not interested in her. We have nothing in common!”

Hunk raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. “And you would know that how? When did you spend enough time with her to find that out?” Lance opened his mouth to protest, but Hunk ploughed on. “Cause I’ve been spending _lots_ of time with her, and y’know what? She’s a lot of fun to hang out with.”

Lance snorted. “You date her, then.”

“Uh, pass. She’s way too much like you.” Hunk turned away, returning to his anxious vigil at the window. “Plus, she’s got a soulmate.”

“I am _nothing_ like Pidge,” Lance retorted, settling in beside Hunk on the rock and leaning back against the wall. He wished he had something to kick his feet up on, but he guessed mermaids don’t really need footrests. “Besides, people end up with people who aren’t their soulmates all the time.”

To tell the truth, Lance had always wanted to end up with his soulmate. But Pidge…

Well, Pidge didn’t like him. Even after they’d agreed on the ‘friends’ thing she’d barely spoken to him outside of Paladin stuff. Lance might not be a genius, but he knew when he wasn’t wanted.

He knew what _he_ wanted, too, and it wasn’t Pidge. Someone like Allura would be way better for him. Allura was beautiful, smart, and everything a guy could want in a girl. Why try and force it with Pidge when he had a better fairytale right in front of him?

“Lance.” Hunk turned to face him, pinning him with a look. “Don’t you think Pidge is gonna have trouble finding someone else with _your_ soulmark splashed across her _face_?”

Guilt swirled in his belly, but he forced it down and shrugged. “It’ll fade.”

“Yeah, it’ll start to fade on its own in what…a decade? Which would put her at over thirty by the time it’s gone completely, so let’s hope she never wanted marriage and kids—”

“She’s a nerd, she probably just want robots—”

“Except she’s _your_ soulmate and her family is so important to her that she committed a bunch of felonies and is now here in space, so…”

“ _All right_ , Hunk, I get it,” Lance said, deflating. “The whole ‘seeing other people’ thing isn’t fair to Pidge.”

“No, the whole ‘avoiding any type of personal relationship with her’ isn’t fair to Pidge,” he replied. “The closer you are, the quicker it’ll fade.”

 _And the more I’ll feel her in my head_.

Still… Hunk had a point. Lance could date a thousand girls and it would be easy for them to forget he wasn’t their soulmate. But Pidge? Every time someone looked at her they’d be reminded that she wasn’t meant to be theirs.

Just like how every time he looked at her, he was reminded that she was _meant_ to be his.

She just didn’t want him.

“Lance?”

Lance blinked and looked up. “Yeah?”

“You don’t have to marry her — I mean, I think you’d be good together, but whatever — just be her friend.” Hunk paused. “A _good_ friend. I think we might be the first friends she’s had.”

* * *

Later that night, a low, constant thrum of anxiety dragged Lance’s consciousness kicking and screaming out of its first restful sleep in at least a week.

What. The. Quiznak.

He stared blearily at the wall. Did he have a nightmare? A flashback? Was it Blue? A premonition— ?

A metallic thud and muffled curse sounded from the hallway outside his room, and the pieces fell into place.

 _Pidge_.

Maybe he should just roll over and go back to sleep. Whatever she was working on, she probably didn’t need his help.

Then again… He was supposed to be making an effort. Maybe 3 a.m. robot testing was the key to friendship with Pidge. Or maybe she’d just throw his efforts in his face again. Who knew?

Either way, Lance was a certified hero, and _real_ heroes didn’t hide in their beds when there was adventure to be had. So, for the third time in two months Lance put on his big boy shoes and went to talk to his soulmate.

* * *

 

Light spilled from Pidge’s open door, illuminating the dim hallway as he crept towards her bedroom. He’d just pop his head in, ask if she was all right, offer his manly help with lifting whatever and—

“...make his hand blue now we’re back on the castle...”

He stopped dead in the doorway.

Pidge sat on the floor, her back to him, her chin resting on one hand as she chattered away quietly to a glowing, floating fuzzball. A few feet away, leaned up against the wall in front of her, sat —

“Is that me?!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not have been one of my favorite parts to write <3
> 
> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175290795468/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-seven)

“Is that me?!”

Pidge’s heart stopped, and she nearly fell backwards, arms flailing while her new pet blinked slowly at her. But once she recovered her balance, she shot to her feet and spun around to face Lance.

“How long have you been standing there?” she demanded.

It was dark in the hallway beyond him; maybe he couldn’t see the livid flush that was probably on her face?

“I asked first!” Lance said, pointing behind her. “And that trash...person... _thing_ looks like _me_!”

“Clearly it’s a sculpture, not a person,” Pidge said, shrugging, trying to feign nonchalance. Maybe if she made his space junk effigy sound boring, he’d lose interest and leave her be and stop asking questions!

And of all sleepless nights for him to find her, it had to be _this_ one?

“I should’ve closed the door,” she muttered to the caterpillar.

“What else are you hiding, Pidge?” Lance said. He crossed his arms and leaned towards her, an eyebrow arched. “Anything _other_ than a ‘sculpture’ that looks like me?”

The prying question hit her hard, a punch to the gut that she never expected from any of her teammates.

_What else are you hiding, Pidge?_

Pidge admitted, “I kept my sculptures of Hunk and Shiro too.”

Lance straightened, his eyes widening comically. “Wait, you made _others_?”

Pidge stepped aside and gestured into her room. “I was stranded in the junk nebula for a long time and got bored when Green was offline. I had to keep busy somehow.”

Lance walked past her, carefully picking his way around the socks and hardware littering her bedroom floor, then crouched in front of his own effigy. “Why keep them?” he wondered.

“Why not?” Pidge sat down next to him, crossing her legs while both trash caterpillars that she adopted - or that adopted _her_ \- hovered over her shoulders. “I built them, so I wanted to keep them. And we had good times together!” She grinned at the memory. “You might’ve gotten a kick out of the Keith one.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lance challenged. “What makes you say that?”

“I had him say that he’s emo.” Pidge nodded towards the Hunk sculpture’s head hidden further in the corner. “And even Hunk’s trash-sona has a weak stomach.”

Lance laughed, the sound full of a mirth she rarely heard because of something _she_ said. “And what did _this_ one say?” He angled his thumb at his effigy.

“It was...ogling a cute girl.” Pidge fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt and avoided looking too closely at him.

“Oh, uh...ha, I guess that does sound like me.” Lance cleared his throat, and when Pidge found the courage to glance up again he was smiling. “But what do you need the blue paint for?”

Pidge snorted, relieved at the change in subject.. “For your hand. Why else?”

“Yeah, but...why?” Lance tilted his head at her. “My hand’s not--”

“Your soulmark, goofball,” Pidge said, prodding his shoulder. When Lance’s eyes widened, her heart dropped. “Did you forget you had one?”

Lance frowned, his gaze drifting down to his colored palm, but as he curled his hand into a fist he chuckled and said, “Yeah, I think I did.”

Pidge bit her lip, uncertain what to say next, what that meant - why it felt like his words hid another meaning.

“So...did you make a sculpture of yourself too?” Lance said. He leaned back, his hands resting on the floor behind him and legs stretched out.

Getting comfortable, Pidge thought.

“I didn’t,” she said, shrugging. “I was there; I didn’t need to substitute _myself_.”

“Aw, Pidge, did you miss us?” His mouth curled into a smirk.

“Oh, definitely not,” Pidge said, but she couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips. 

* * *

Pidge sat on the Green Lion’s giant paw on the banks of the Olkari lake. While everyone else talked shop, she tried to feel...something. Connected to nature? At peace with the universe?

A hum filled the back of her mind, but rather than being distracting or overwhelming, it soothed her instead. Her spine was stiff, her back aching, after a battle fought and won, but in mind she was calm.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t want anything to occupy her hands or her thoughts. She could just sit and enjoy her surroundings.

The lake’s waters washed from blue to orange as the sun dipped towards the horizon, the shadows of the forest lengthening. And as the sky darkened, tiny pinpricks of light filled the air...like lightning bugs.

Wonder filling her, Pidge held her hand out, but the point of light died faded before she could touch it. Her hand fell to her lap, and the light reemerged.

She tried again, only to fail, and as the process repeated ad nauseum, she laughed, flirting with the light too fun to be frustrating.

A sense of incredulity that wasn’t hers made her pause with her arm outstretched. A heartbeat later the Green Lion rumbled beneath her, the sound of footsteps on loose sand approaching.

“Pidge!” Lance called, holding up his hand, a grin lighting up his face. “It’s time to head back to the Castle.”

Pidge climbed down from Green’s paw. “Meeting’s over?”

“All done.” Lance rested his hands on his hips as he came to a stop in front of her. “What were you doing out here alone anyway?”

“I wasn’t alone.” Pidge patted her Lion’s painted metal side. “I was with Green.”

“I guess you two _are_ getting closer, huh?” Lance glanced up at Green’s face, then looked back at her. “You look…”

“What?” She frowned when he trailed off, his silence putting her on edge.

“‘Happy’ doesn’t seem like the right word,” Lance mused, clutching his chin. “ _Calm_?”

Pidge shrugged and admitted, “I guess I am? Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“Nope.” Lance clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Watching the sunset always--” His eyes widened, and he failed his arm excitedly. “Holy crow, were you _watching a sunset_?”

Pidge sputtered, “A-and if I was?”

“It’s--I’m _shocked_ , Pidge.” Lance tugged her towards him, his fingers curled around her elbow. “You have to tell me everything!”

“It was just a sunset!” Pidge said. “What’s there even to tell?”

“But it was your first!”

“It was _not_!”

“Oh, really?” Lance crossed his arms and smirked. “What was it you said? _A billion sunsets just happen every day_?”

Pidge’s cheeks flushed. She smacked Lance’s shoulder, giggling and dancing away when he tried to tackle her.

At a silent cue from her, Green crouched, the ground shaking and a cloud of dust billowing up when she opened her jaw for Paladin.

“See you on the Castle?” Pidge said.

“Yeah, whatever.” Lance waved a dismissive hand, already turning to head back the way he came.

“Just don’t get lost on the way.”

Lance spun around, indignation filling his face. “H-hey!”

Pidge laughed, delighting in sweet, sweet revenge and, for once, not resenting the eye-catching spiral on her face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175386228124/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-eight-woohoo)

Thirty-six vargas and counting.

That was how long Lance had been up. After that awful cube thing on Olkarion, then having to join the forces clearing the city, then doing all the diplomatic stuff, and _then_ being hounded constantly by Zarkon for about half a quintant…

He’d never been this tired in his life.

_So why couldn’t he go to sleep?_

Nice hot shower, check. Abbreviated skin care and relaxation routine, check. Comfortable pyjamas, check.

And then he’d laid in bed staring at the ceiling, too keyed up to drift off.

He’d done the hot drink thing already, so now he was heading off around the castle for a twenty minute walk before trying again. Keith had passed him going the opposite direction a couple of hallways back, so at least Lance knew it wasn’t just him.

Hunk was probably in the kitchen still. Shiro, he hadn’t seen. Pidge… Hmm.

Lance curled his fingers around his soulmark, trying to get a feel on what Pidge was doing. When he didn’t feel anything, he stopped and held his palm to his heart, eyes closed, trying to tap the bond like he did whenever he flew the Blue Lion.

...Nothing.

He set off down the hallway again, his muffled footsteps the only sound.

Maybe she was asleep? He hoped she was asleep. Lord knows they all needed the sleep. She’d barely been able to walk when they left the teludav to get changed — Shiro had all but carried her to her room.

Then again, Lance had been dead on his feet until he lied down, too.

Pidge, though — she was probably asleep. The alternative to Pidge not being asleep was that Lance was just a really, really bad soulmate, and that… That wasn’t something that he wanted to dwell on.

Better to focus on other things. Like breathing deeply, listening to the rhythm of his footsteps, appreciating the feel of the slippers on his feet. Relaxing things, things that would help him wind down and finally go to sleep.

There was no telling when Zarkon would catch up with them again. A good night’s sleep could mean the difference between life and death.

He turned into the hallway to his room and immediately barrelled into a walking pillow.

“Oof!” He quickly grabbed hold of Pidge’s pyjama sleeve to steady her. “What the heck, Pidge? Why aren’t you asleep?!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, eyes darting to the side, cheeks faintly pink. She was half-wrapped in the comforter from her bed, her pillow clutched to her chest with the rest of the blanket to stop it from trailing on the floor. Her eyes barely peeked out over the pile, hazel locks pointing every which way like the worst bed head imaginable.

It was kind of adorable. But also really weird. Lance frowned.

“So you decided to just camp in the hallway or something?”

Pidge flushed an even darker pink, shuffling her feet and looking everywhere but him. The silence dragged on for a few moments, Lance’s eyebrow rising higher and higher, until she finally admitted, “Actually, I was going to ask if I could sleep in your room.”

Lance blinked. “What?”

“I just… I dunno, man, I can’t sleep. I’ll sleep on the floor!” she added quickly. “I just… I didn’t want to be alone, and the only person I even kind of wanted to see was you.”

“Oh.” Taken aback, Lance felt his own cheeks heat up. “Why me?”

The question slipped out before he could stop it, and Pidge’s eyebrows shot up past her bangs. “Uh… Why you?”

“Yeah, I… Wait, you know what, nevermind. Yeah. Of course you can stay in my room,” Lance said, tugging her pillow out of her arms as he started to lead the way down the hall. Why was a dumb question. _It’s not like she’s here because of_ me _._ He slapped his hand to the door panel and dismissed the thought. Pidge followed on behind, rearranging the comforter. “But you’re not sleeping on the floor. My mom would kill me if she found out I made a girl sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed, Lance,” said Pidge, frowning as she passed into the dim lighting of his room. “I’m the one who’s imposing.”

“Imposing what?” Lance asked, already in the process of grabbing his pillow from the bed.

Pidge stopped him before he could throw it on the floor. “It means I’m the one expecting you to accommodate me, not the other way round. The floor’s fine.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You are _not_ sleeping on the floor.”

“Well, you’re not either!” she huffed, then switched her gaze to the bed behind him. “How about we top and tail?”

Hmm. That could work. Lance turned to study the bed, then Pidge again, then sighed. “Yeah, no. You’re gonna end up with my feet in your face.” He pushed his own pillow over against the wall and carefully placed Pidge’s next to it before climbing into bed, saying, “Here. Just sleep next to me.”

“Just…?!” Pidge spluttered, and Lance couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction as he started pulling his comforter into a cocoon to give her space. “Lance, I’m not sleeping next to you!”

“Hey, you’re one who wanted to sleep over,” he retorted. “Besides. We both have our own blankets, and we’re both dressed.” He paused. “You’re not planning on taking advantage of me, are you?”

“Of course not,” she grumbled, finally clambering onto the bed. “I don’t wanna have to explain this to the others, though.”

“Eh —” he knocked his head against hers, gently — “they’ll just think it’s a soulmate thing. Go to sleep, Pidge.”

She didn’t reply.

Quiet breaths, the whispers of rustling fabric. Pidge shifted to get comfortable, then settled. Maybe it was because Pidge was there, but Lance was finally drifting off when —

“That’s not why.”

“Huh?” He murmured sleepily, confused by the quiet confession. “S’not why what?”

“I’m not here because you’re my soulmate,” Pidge clarified, her voice growing stronger. “I just… You won’t make fun of me. Everyone else would worry, but… You’ll just try to make me feel better.”

“Oh.” He shifted onto his side to look at her. She had the comforter pulled up to her chin, hiding everything but her head, though her hair hid half her face. In this light, he could just make out the darker shadows of her soulmark.

She was so close he could feel her breath, warm on his skin. His heart forgot how to beat.

“Oh,” he repeated dumbly, and Pidge giggled. “Uh, thanks?”

She laughed again, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “No, thank _you_. Goodnight, Lance.”

“Night.”

Neither turned away. They fell silent, quietly gazing as sleep slowly creeped over them, and Lance found himself fighting an itch to push her hair out of her face. Or move closer. He wondered if her hair was as soft as it looked.

What did it smell like?

“Hey, Lance?” Pidge broke the silence again, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “Were you scared?”

He gave in to the urge and worked a hand out from under his covers, reaching to smooth her hair behind her ear. Pidge’s eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into the touch. Lance didn’t take his hand back.

“When?”

She opened her eyes. “In the teludav. When the beam started.”

Oh. “Yeah. I was scared.”

Pidge closed her eyes again, lifting a hand to rest atop the one on her cheek. “Me too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175391476118/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-nine)

Pidge woke tangled in her warm comforter, dazed and confused and wondering when her bedroom door migrated to the opposite side of the room. Didn’t it used to be to the _left_ of her bed…?

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before extending her arms over her head - only for her hand to hit something she didn’t expect to be there.

When Lance mumbled sleepily and rolled onto his back, Pidge remembered.

“Oh, quiznak,” she said, alert and tossing her comforter off to climb out of a bed that was definitely not hers.

Her foot caught in it before she could disentangle her legs, and she plummeted to the floor, her elbows colliding with it and sending a shockwave up her arms.

“Ow,” she groaned, slowly - and more carefully - sitting up and rubbing her red elbows.

“Pidge?” Lance said, peeking at her over the side of his bed. “Did you just--”

“Yes, I did just fall out of bed,” Pidge grumbled while her face warmed.

“What’s the rush?” Lance wondered. “Did I miss an alarm or something?”

Pidge shook her head as she got to her feet and gathered her comforter and pillow. “I just don’t want to have to explain to the others--”

A sharp knock from the door cut her off, and she swore in an alien tongue for the second time in a few doboshes.

“Come in!” Lance, totally and _infuriatingly_ nonchalant, called before Pidge could stop him.

 _They’ll just think it’s a soulmate thing,_ he’d said, which meant...what?

(God, if their team thought there was something between them when there obviously _wasn’t_ \--)

The door slid open to reveal Shiro.

When his gaze fell on them - on Lance dawdling in bed and on Pidge glaring at him - his eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared under his white forelock. “So--"

Lance, shooting upright with his eyes wide and his face redder than Pidge had ever seen it, said, “It’s just a soulmate thing.”

Shiro smiled in a way Pidge could only describe as _indulgent_. “Right,” he said, “well, Princess Allura’s calling a meeting about how we can shake Zarkon off our tail…” 

* * *

" _Pidge, might I ask you a...personal question?” Allura approached Pidge with her hands clasped together, a smile that read rather...untrue on her face._

_Pidge blinked in surprise - Allura hadn’t spoken to her much one-on-one since the disastrous party on Arus. “Uh...sure, Princess.”_

_“What is that mark on your face?” Allura pointed to her chin. “I’ve never seen anyone with pigmentation like yours, and it’s roughly_ hand-shaped _.”_

_“Oh, it’s my soulmark.”_

_“A...soulmark?”_

_“Do Alteans not have that or some other method to tell when you’ve met your soulmate?” Pidge wondered...while thinking why couldn’t she be so lucky._

_“Nothing so visible, no,” Allura admitted with a faraway look. “But if such things are common in humans, why are you the only one with one?”_

_“We all have one, I think,” Pidge said. ”Mine - and Lance’s - is the only one that’s been...activated.” She clutched her right hand in her left and hoped that Allura wouldn’t ask the next logical question._

_“I see--wait, Lance?” Allura’s eyes widened._

_“Yeah...why?” Pidge said, her heart pounding - and unsure why, exactly, she didn’t want to confess to_ this _particular bond to her alien teammate._

_“Lance doesn’t behave like one who’s met his soulmate,” Allura mused._

_Pidge’s stomach twisted into knots. “No, I guess not…”_

_“Wait...is that what’s on his hand?” Allura leaned towards her, inspecting Pidge’s soulmark more closely, and said, “It does look a lot like--” Her eyes snapped wide open. “Did he_ slap _you?”_

_“Kind of,” Pidge said, and when Allura’s gaze hardened into a glare, she waved her hands and added, “But it’s not what you think! He was trying to keep me quiet--”_

_“What?!”_

_“Okay, that wasn’t the right way to explain it either.” Pidge sighed, exasperated, and said, “Look, it’s complicated, so I don’t really want to talk about it.”_

_“But you and Lance--”_

_“--are friends,” Pidge insisted, “and for now, it’ll stay that way.”_

Or forever, _she reminded herself._  

And that, _she added when Allura shot her a pitying look,_ would be fine.

* * *

 

Pidge didn’t understand how Lance could be so sweet to her one night and fret over Allura like a jealous boyfriend the next.

(If she closed her eyes she could still feel his fingertips brushing her hair away from her face…)

Maybe that was why, after their fight over Taujeer, she didn’t bother searching for him when she couldn’t sleep, no matter how much she wanted him to.

But when he found her, a sheepish smile on his face and his comforter and pillow bunched in his arms, she couldn’t say no.

It was just a _soulmate thing_ , after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175401122514/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-ten-sp4c3-0ddity)
> 
>  
> 
> Watch me channel personal peeves into fanfiction.

There was nothing more frustrating than watching others sleep when you couldn’t.

Apart from, perhaps, knowing it was their fault you were awake in the first place.

Pidge mumbled more nonsense and shifted, one hand flopping down on Lance’s cheek as she turned to face him with a small sigh before finally settling down and falling still.

Lance’s eyebrow twitched.

He’d been sleeping fine — one of his best sleeps in recent memory, full of warm, pleasant dreams — despite the ambient light in Pidge’s room, when he’d been rudely awakened by a kick to the stomach and a cry of “No! The goldfish!”

When the pain had died down Pidge had still been dreaming about quiznak-knows-what, shifting around and mumbling words he couldn’t even hope to make sense of before settling down again. Each time she’d settled it had lasted just long enough for Lance to let go of the anger and start to drift, and then she’d started up again.

He waited with bated breath, wondering if this time it would _finally_ last. A part of him knew that he could have just gone back to his room, but he was invested now, goddammit. Besides, Pidge’s erratic movements aside, he was warm and comfortable and getting up would ruin that.

The thought of getting up to shove her out the airlock was _very_ tempting, though.

Pidge shifted again. Lance held his breath, but she only sighed and snuggled into her pillow, breathing something that sounded suspiciously like Lance’s name.

The anger in his heart melted instantly. Was she dreaming about him?

The pleased warmth dissipated as quickly as it had come. Yeah, of course she was dreaming about him. He was her soulmate, right? Something twisted in his stomach. It’s not like she’d be dreaming about him ‘cause he was cool, or handsome, or funny…

The soft glow of her fairy lights was just enough for him to see her soulmark almost clearly, the bright blue and green spirals marring her otherwise pretty face. It was better than the ugly black mask that had been there before, at least. Well, barely. He gently brushed some stray hairs from her cheek with his right hand, tracing the mark with the pad of his thumb, and wondered what she’d look like without it.

She was beautiful. Wild, dark honey hair, skin so pale it looked almost porcelain. A cute, tiny nose that she scrunched up when she was concentrating, soft pink lips that frequently split into wide smiles and bright laughter, expressive brown eyes that blinked slowly…

Oh.

“Lance?” Pidge murmured, sleep heavy on her words. “What are you doing…?”

She trailed off on a yawn, her face scrunching up. Lance pulled his hand back like it had been burned. “I, uh…”

Another yawn. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 _Cause I was staring at you._ “I’m hungry.”

Pidge blinked three times, then pushed herself up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in a way that could only be called _adorable_.

Shaking the thought off, Lance copied her movement. “What are you doing?”

“You’re hungry, right?” Pidge said. “Let’s go get some food.”

* * *

Lance was trailing after Pidge down the hallway back to her room when he suddenly wondered if this was what _forever_ looked like.

Messy hair, pyjamas covered in space flour and smelling faintly like overcooked pancakes. Bright eyes and teasing smiles as she reminded you of how you’d dropped the egg-thing powder. A bellyful of pancakes made with more laughter than anything else he could name, and a chest bursting with warmth he couldn’t quite put a name to either.

“Lance?” He blinked. Pidge was gazing up at him curiously, concern in her gaze. “Are you okay? You kind of froze.”

“Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool. Of course I’m cool, I’m me!”

“Right,” Pidge said, skepticism in her voice. “C’mon then, it’s late…”

There was easily a metre or more between them, but she was suddenly much too close. Lance swallowed.

“Yeah, about that, I, uh…”

He fled.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175463521578/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-eleven)

At first, some sluggish, sleep-deprived, space pancake-muddled part of Pidge’s brain thought Lance wanted a race. So she’d grinned and given chase, their footsteps echoing down the hallway loud enough that she’d worry about waking everyone else if the walls weren’t soundproof.

But Lance was always too far ahead and drawing further away, and when she arrived at her bedroom doorway, doubled over and struggling to pull enough air into her lungs, it was obvious that she’d interpreted the situation all wrong.

The burst of giddy energy that filled her moments ago fell away, leaving Pidge just as drained as she was when she first fell asleep.

No, that wasn’t right either:  when she fell asleep, her relationship with Lance made _sense_. They were soulmates, but didn’t _act_ like it; and they were friends who sometimes (or often) slept in the same bed.

But unless Lance skipped to the bathroom, he’d...run away.

Pidge trudged through the doorway and collapsed onto her bed. She hugged Lance’s pillow to her chest - while resisting the urge to inhale his scent - and waited.

The longer she waited, the deeper her heart sank, and where sleep came so quickly earlier, it eluded her now. 

* * *

Sometime while she should’ve been asleep, sadness gave way to a pulse-thrumming anger, the kind that filled her with a certainty that she’d hit him the tick she spotted his irritatingly cute face. So after Coran directed them to the hangar, Pidge hid a yawn behind her hand and tugged on Hunk’s sleeve. When he turned to look at her, she said, “Do you mind letting Lance take shotgun?”

Hunk scowled. “Yes, I do, actually!” But his face softened into a frown and he wondered, “Wait, why do you want me to let him take shotgun?”

Pidge crossed her arms and muttered, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hunk pressed a hand to his forehead. “Really? _Again_?”

“Look, can you just--”

“Fine!” Hunk threw his hands into the air, then pointed at her. “But you owe me, Pidge.”

Pidge smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Once I figure out how to increase the range of Green’s cloaking device I’ll build one for--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Hunk waved a dismissive hand. “Just patch things up with him soon, okay? I don’t think I can stand to watch you two tiptoe around each other _again_.” 

* * *

It was all an elaborate set up; Pidge was _sure_ of it. Because here she stood in a quiznaking _shopping mall_ , of all things, after discarding an elaborate costume that made her look like a character that jumped straight out of an illegally streamed anime - a pirated pirate, so to speak - while Hunk followed his nose and Keith followed...something.

And left her with _Lance_ , who had the _audacity_ to smile at her and ask her where she wanted to start looking for Coran’s scaultrite lenses when just a few vargas ago he’d _sprinted away_ from her without so much as a _by your leave_.

(She wasn’t sure if she imagined the color in his cheeks or the way he didn’t quite look her in the eye.)

But because wandering around a satellite-sized shopping mall alone didn’t appeal to her - and hiding in the bathroom didn’t work when she couldn’t interpret the signs - she decided to stick with Lance.

She was content enough with that while the outing was _strictly business_.

The Mercury Gameflux II changed everything. 

* * *

“I regret everything.”

“No, you don’t…”

“I do,” Pidge grumbled, her arms crossed while she glared up at the ceiling in the Castle’s lounge. “I completely derailed our mission--”

“Pidge, it was _shopping_.”

“--so we could go diving for loose change in a wishing fountain to buy a video game console we can’t play both because Altean tech is incompatible _and_ because we probably won’t have time to use it anyway!” She flung her hands into the air before dropping her arms to cover her face.

“And you call _me_ dramatic.” Lance lifted her arm and raised an eyebrow at her when she met his eyes. “So...you going to do anything about it?”

“Like…?”

“I don’t know.” Lance rolled his eyes and tapped the end of her nose. “I thought you were a genius, Pidge.”

“I am--hey, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Pidge demanded, sitting up and glaring at him.

She’d overestimated the distance between them.

The motion put them nose to nose, or nearly, so close that Pidge could watch the play of light and shadows on his cheeks and count every single one of the dumb thick lashes framing his eyes and if Pidge leaned in just a little further maybe she could even taste--

Lance turned his head, clearing his throat, and said, “I’m sorry.”

“I--what?” Pidge blinked, startled and suddenly conscious of her pounding heart.

“I’m sorry I ran away from you last night,” Lance muttered, so softly she nearly missed it. “I just...well, I don’t think I have a good excuse for it. Something spooked me, I guess.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious - and a part of her was validated that she was right to think he’d _run away_.

Though the confirmation made her chest ache.

“Why did you...do that?” Pidge wondered. “I-I’m your soulmate, and even if we weren’t - we’re friends too, right?” She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “Y-you should be able to talk to me if something happened,” she told her feet.

“I should…” Lance agreed. He shifted so that his shoulder pressed against hers, his face downcast.

“We were having fun,” Pidge said, elbowing him. “Or, _I_ was having fun.”

“I had fun too, Pidge,” Lance said. He smiled and added, “I had fun today.”

“Me too.”

“I always have fun with you,” he said, his smile widening and making his eyes shine brighter. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, surprising her. “I think I maybe even, uh…” He scratched his chin and laughed. “I like...spending time with you.”

Pidge couldn’t help being _confused_ ; why hesitate so much to tell her _that_? “Great!” she said, scowling. “Then stop running away from me.”

He rested his cheek against her head and said, “Yeah, I think I should.”

His simple words filled her with warmth and hope, leaving her soulmark tingling just as much as that first thoughtless touch.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175558377294/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-twelve)
> 
> Lance musing and being internally angsty is so much fun for me. I love Lance's inner struggles.

Maybe he was exhausted or maybe it was too dark, but he just _couldn’t tell_.

Normally, Lance would have gotten up and turned on the light or used one of the flashlights on either his phone or the keys in the draw in the wall (a bedside cupboard?), but he couldn’t do that tonight. Not when Pidge was curled up beside him, the safety net of separate bedding abandoned for his body heat, her pillow swapped for his bicep.

She’d probably freak out about it in the morning. The best-case scenario was her rolling back away from him in her sleep, but Lance didn’t actually want that to happen. Okay, so he might have lost the feeling in his left arm over half an hour ago, there might have been drool on his chest and sweat soaking through his sleeve…

Ugh. He was pathetic.

She might have been his soulmate, but still — Pidge was just a _girl_. And, even though Lance thought she was pretty as all quiznak, he knew she was nowhere near supermodel level. Definitely not the type of girl he _should_ be throwing his dignity away for, at any rate — especially when a freaking _princess_ had literally _fallen into his arms_. That’s some fairytale nonsense right there, right? The cool dashing hero travels across time and space to awaken a beautiful princess, and when he holds her in his arms she falls instantly in love and they live happily ever after?

The prince doesn’t ignore the princess for the nerdy sidekick. Even if that sidekick was a badass fighter who’d saved his life countless times. Or a genius who constantly left his head spinning. Or totally into the same video games that _defined_ Lance’s childhood, and the owner of a smile so blinding it made the stars look dim.

Yet here he was, watching in his mind as every fantasy of the princess turned into the sidekick instead.

Marco would never let him live it down.

Pidge shifted beside him, her hair tickling his chin, and Lance gently tucked the stray strands behind her ear with his right hand. He’d honestly been surprised when she’d turned up at his door — they hadn’t shared a bed since he’d fled from her like a frightened schoolboy, and he still wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the breathing room or not. Now that he’d started paying attention, having her next to him tonight was more of a distraction than anything else. His fingers twitched with a need to card through her hair, his lips tingled with a need to taste her — even if only briefly — and his whole body throbbed with a need to be _closer_.

There was no way he was going to get any sleep tonight. Which was way he was laying on his bad, half his body numb and overheating, examining his soulmark in the dim light and trying to figure out if it had started to fade.

A small sigh alerted him to Pidge stirring again, but all she did was push away and roll over. Lance gazed at her back, resisting the urge to run his hand down her spine and across the smooth skin exposed where her t-shirt rode up, and went back to looking at his hand.

Was it…?

It was too dark to tell.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175567184193/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-thirteen)
> 
> this was a fun chapter, even if i had no idea what to start with xD

“Lance.”

“What…”

“Come on, wake up and help me with this.” Pidge poked Lance in the cheek, but all he did was swat her hand away. She sighed, tossing her head back, and hissed, “ _Lance_!”

He bolted upright, an indentation from his jacket sleeve red against his face. “What?” he said while rubbed his eyes and yawned.

For some reason, the sight made warmth spread through her chest, though by now the sensation had grown familiar. Something about seeing him sleepy or waking relaxed her very soul.

Maybe they weren’t soulmates for nothing…

Pidge shook that thought from her head, instead crossing her arms and appraising Lance. “You’re no stranger to naps.”

He smirked, the expression almost _lazy_ , and fired a finger gun at her. “Look who’s paying attention.”

She rolled her eyes. “So if you’re so tired, you could always sleep in your room rather than at your terminal.”

“And miss the show?” He gestured towards the twin black holes and the blue star between them lying beyond the Castle. “I don’t think so.”

“You miss the show by falling asleep,” Pidge pointed out. When Lance continued to stare obstinately out the viewscreen - undoubtedly still stung over Shiro taking Keith with him into the base - she grabbed his wrist and said, “If you _do_ want to stay awake, I think I have an idea of what we can do.”

Before she could tow him to his feet and away, Lance tugged her back so suddenly the ground slipped out from underneath her feet. She lost her balance…

...and tumbled into his lap.

Pidge jumped out and away, heat high in her cheeks and trying very hard not to look at him. But _God_ , she could slap herself for acting so _awkward_ when they shared a bed - and fell asleep practically cuddling! - most nights.

Lance sighed and stood, looking unbothered by the _incident_. He extended his arms over his head in a stretch, his t-shirt riding up and revealing a hint of skin, and asked, “So what do you want to do?” 

* * *

Once Pidge explained what she needed from Lance to build an interface between the Gameflux and the Castle’s technology, she said, “Did you get that?”

Lance stared at her, his eyes wide. “No, so can you please explain that a _little_ bit slower?”

Pidge frowned, searching for the right words, and tried again. “Look, all I need you to do is it hand me what I ask for and hold things in place for me when I have too few hands.”

“Two hands aren’t enough for you?”

“For some things? No, they’re not.”

Lance laughed but agreed, “Sure, let’s distract ourselves with some high-quality bonding.”

“Quite literally,” Pidge quipped, already working on comparing the console’s wiring to the Castle’s electrical system.

They worked in silence for barely a dobosh before Lance said, “Hey, Pidge?”

“Yeah?” she said without looking up from the power converter in her hands.

“Did you...always want to be a programmer or do something with tech?”

The converter nearly slipped through Pidge’s fingers at Lance’s random question. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious,” Lance said.

By now Pidge knew him well enough that she could sense when he wished to evade some topic, so rather than press him, she said, “Not really.”

“Wait, _really_?” Lance leaned towards her, his jaw hanging open.

“Yes, really. Now hand me those pliers.”

Lance did, then said, “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“A fighter pilot,” Pidge replied easily, a wistful smile pushing at her lips. When she chanced a glance at him again, she noticed that his surprise hadn’t faded. “What?”

“ _Really_?”

“Yes…” Pidge squeezed the pliers. “Why is that so hard to believe? Look what I am now!”

“I-I know,” Lance said, pointing at her, “but you’re so…” He gestured with a hand, as if trying to pull the word from thin air.

“What?” Pidge said, scowling, his obvious disbelief rubbing her all wrong. “I’m too short? Too much of a nerd?” But when he only gaped at her, her anger faded fast, replaced by an exhausting ache. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but is it really so hard to believe that we’re--”

Her eyes widened with realization.

“We’re what, Pidge?” Lance prompted, tapping her shoulder.

“We’re not so different, are we?” Pidge said, meeting his eyes.

“I guess not.” He blinked at her, still looking bewildered - and Pidge wondered if they were even having the same conversation. “But it wasn’t so much that I wanted to be a fighter pilot.” He grinned and nudged her in the side. “I wanted to be a hero! Fight bad guys, rescue princesses, lead a band of merry men…”

“Steal from the rich and give to the poor?” Pidge said. She bit her lip, trying not to show how amused she was.

Lance laughed. “I’ll admit that’s on my bucket list.”

Pidge snorted and pointed out, “You’ve done two of those things so far, right?”

“Right,” Lance said, “and you’re a fighter pilot.”

Pidge grinned. “Yes, I am.”

“Then all that’s left for me - besides stealing from the rich to give to the poor - is to fall in love...for real.” Lance eyed his right palm before curling his fingers, not quite looking at her.

“I...right,” Pidge said, hating the way those words in particular hit her.

She doubted he meant anything hurtful by it, but they burrowed their way under her skin and _itched_.

How could he _do_ this to her, be so thoughtful sometimes yet so careless?

And careless with what, exactly? Her heart? Perhaps fate laughed when it decided they would be soulmates, but Pidge had yet to _actually_ feel something for Lance beyond friendship.

This was the sort of thing that friends spoke about, she reminded herself, so why did Lance’s words feel engineered to _hurt_?

“You all right, Pidge?” Lance said, bursting the unhappy bubble around her thoughts.

She nodded. “Just having trouble connecting these wires,” she lied, holding up the converter and the wire dangling from it.

“Here, let me help a little more,” Lance said. He held his hands out for it, a smile on his face, and Pidge finally reached a startling conclusion that explained why he put her so out of sorts:

Soulmark or no, she might’ve...felt more for Lance than she originally planned.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175575503054/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-fourteen)
> 
>  
> 
> This was by far my favourite chapter to write.

Okay, he _knew_ he didn’t have anything on his face. So why was she still staring at him like that?

Waving his blue hand in front of her nose, Lance tried again.

“Pidge? Hello?”

Pidge visibly jumped, her entire body jolting upwards for a split-second before she hurriedly shoved the tangle of wires into his outstretched hands with a harsh “Here!” Before he could say anything else she had turned away, her hands already busy sifting through the mess of components laid out in front of her, the back of her ears flushed a deep red.

Lance blinked. What the heck was that about? The way she was hunched in on herself made him doubt she’d given him an honest answer if he asked.

He frowned down at the wires in his hand, thinking, watching the way the wires traced around the swirls of colour on his palm. They didn’t look like they’d faded much yet, but… Hmm…

Curling his fingers over his mark, he closed his eyes and reached out for the connection for the first time in weeks. The soulmate bond was meant to be telepathic, and they were much closer than before so maybe now he could get a read on her? Even a vague one would give him something to go on.

His eyes snapped open when he was immediately flooded with a wave of emotions, each so conflicting he wasn’t sure where to start sorting through them. Shame, fear, hurt, anger, and then something familiar, something that felt a lot like how he felt about—

“What the quiznak are you doing!”

Pidge’s yell broke his concentration and he looked up, his eyes dry from staring at his knees for so long, head still spinning. “Uh…”

“You!” She leaned forward, jabbing him angrily in the shoulder, eyes glittering with anger and unshed tears. “Don’t. _Do._ That!” She moved to get up with a huff but Lance’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, keeping her on her knees. “Lance, let go of me!”

He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “I was only trying to figure out what was wrong! One minute we were talking fine and then you suddenly freaked out on me!”

“I did not freak out on you!”

“That’s what it felt like!”

She shook her arm, trying futilely to free her hand from his grasp again. “Like _you_ get to say anything about one of us freaking out!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance retorted, eyes narrowed.

“Just that you went _sprinting_ down the quiznaking hallway the other night when—”

“Hey, I already apologised for that!”

“Still— Ugh,” she said with a grunt, giving her arm another sharp tug. “Lance, let go of my arm!”

“Fine.” He released her wrist in one second, and in the next he’d lunged forward and pulled her into his lap, ignoring her squeak of surprise to hold her tight against his chest.

Pidge was tense and frozen in his arms, and Lance was suddenly acutely aware that he’d crossed a line.

This was either gonna go very, very badly, or very, very good.

Throat dry, he wrapped trembling hands around her shoulders, loosening his grip as he buried in his face in her hair, his eyes squeezed shut. Pidge still didn’t move.

A heartbeat. Two.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “If you want me to let go of you, I will.”

For a moment, the only response was a shaky breath, and then her fingers curled into his jacket and she was shaking her head, her hair tickling his nose.

_Oh no._

Lance sneezed.

Pidge laughed, and the moment was gone.

“Bless you,” she said impishly, leaning back to smirk up at him, her cheeks still dusted pink. Lance made a face at her as he rubbed his now-watery eyes with one hand — the other was still firmly around her waist — and she laughed again, the sound clear and bright and more enchanting than any type of magic. And oh, how he was under her spell. He didn’t even want to fight it anymore.

She hadn’t made to move out of his lap, and that thought filled him with daring as he cupped her cheek in his palm and leaned towards her, drawn like a moth to flame, inwardly marvelling at the smooth caress of her cheek and the way her eyes darted down to his lips before meeting his again.

A thrill went through him. She wanted this as much as he did.

...Didn’t she?

His confidence vanished as quickly as it had come and he stopped, his nose a hair’s breadth from hers. Her soft breath was warm on his cheeks and warmer on his lips, but the distance between them suddenly felt insurmountable.

Maybe he should—

“Lance,” she breathed, softer than any whisper he’d heard. “What are you doing?”

“Remember when you told me to stop running away from you?” he said, voice hoarse. Pidge nodded, her eyes never once leaving his, looking for answers as much as he was. “You’ve got to stop doing that, too.”

His soulmark was _burning_. Distantly, he wondered if hers was too.

It didn’t look any different. Pidge flicked her tongue out, wetting her lips, and he tore his eyes away from the action to meet hers again, heartbeat picking up at the resolution in her gaze.

Why did Pidge have the tree lion? Everything about her was _fire_.

“I’m not running away now.”

Her fingers tightened in his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as she moved to close the scant distance between them. Lance followed suit slowly, anticipation making every split-second feel like forever, but a part of him wanted to drag this out. All he could think about was the feel of her cheek against his palm and her weight on his lap and her breath on his lips and, ridiculously, how this wasn’t a bad first kiss to start off forever with, and how he wanted to etch every heartbeat of this moment into his brain for the rest of their lives together.

First kisses needed to be savoured. Lance didn’t need to rush this. Not when the universe itself was conspiring to push them together.

The door whooshed open.

“Guys, I can’t see anything over these crates, so if one of you could help me so I don’t kill myself on the junk on the floor that’d be great.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175594137848/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-fifteen)
> 
> Me, looking at this chapter months after i wrote it: why did i do it like THAT

Her face burned but did not hurt. It burned like well-heated bathwater or the processing unit of a computer before the fan kicked in.

Pidge’s soulmark burned - or maybe it was the skin under Lance’s palm. With his lips so close and stealing all her attention, it was impossible to tell the difference.

Only moments ago she hadn’t even _thought_ this could be real, but now--

With her heart pounding, Pidge jerked her head up at the sound of Hunk’s voice, her eyes wide as she stared at the crates in his arms. But when she dared a glance sideways at Lance - noticed that his hand still lay against her cheek - his gaze was still on her.

_I could still kiss him...I could make it quick._

“Guys?” Hunk prompted without peeking around his burden. “I’m too young to suffer these backaches, so I--”

Pidge slipped away from Lance and pretended she hadn’t noticed his arms trying to hold onto her.

Thanks to the wide-open bond between them, Pidge knew she failed. She glanced at him and mouthed, “ _Later_.”

Lance smiled and stood. “Here, man, let me give you a hand.”

After Pidge shoved her technological detritus out of Hunk’s path, she left him and Lance to chat, the hope of _later_ making it feel like she walked on air.

Her soulmark still burned, and that along with the mental play-by-play of what almost just happened filled her brain with a fog of daydreams.

She could picture it perfectly, how they slowly leaned in, how his hand felt against her cheek and his warm breath blossoming over her forehead...how sitting in his lap put her that much closer to his lips and--

Her feet steered her towards the bathroom, and Pidge splashed cold water over her face to cool down her thoughts.

Her breath came unsteadily but her heartbeat calmed, and once the fancy passed - once Lance and the idea of a kiss no longer consumed so much of her processing power - she could finally _think_.

Did she _want_ to kiss him? Yes, yes she did, and she would’ve enthusiastically if Hunk hadn’t barged in.

But _should_ she kiss him?

Her reflection in the mirror traced the green spiral that decorated her face, the spiral that derailed all of her careful plans.

It no longer burned, but before Pidge could reach across the bond and towards Lance, she thought, _Do I like him because he’s my soulmate...or is he my soulmate because I like him?_

Pidge dropped her forehead to the counter with a frustrated hiss. Moments ago she’d been _elated_ , and now she just wanted to wipe the last few vargas from her memory if only to forget her questions, to forget the almost-kiss, to forget her feelings for Lance.

“Does it even matter if we’re soulmates?” Pidge asked her reflection, as if it would know better than she did.

Pidge sighed and wished that she could talk to Matt. He’d know something, have the right words to soothe her worries, but Matt wasn’t here.

And she still needed to find him.

Pidge’s heart sank, heavy enough to root her to the spot, as she remembered how close yet how _far_ he and her father were.

She had to talk to Lance.

After throwing one last glance over her shoulder at her green-stained reflection, Pidge fled the bathroom.

She followed the mental trail that tied them together, sensing that he was in the same room she left him without understanding how.

(She’d have time to ponder it later.)

He sat with his back to her, comparing two different colored wires, and at the sound of the door sliding open, he looked up.

Lance’s radiant grin made a flush rise to her cheeks and sweat dampen her hands, and she couldn’t help answering it with a smile of her own.

Until she recalled why she desperately needed to speak with him.

Pidge sat beside him, though she was careful to keep some distance between them. With her eyes fixed on the floor, she said, “Lance, I--”

“Have you noticed your mark fading?” Lance wondered, raising his right hand and holding it out to her. “Or is it just me?”

Startled, Pidge said, “What?”

She’d almost expected a cliched, _Now, where were we? That_ she’d been prepared to head off, _that_ might’ve made what she had to say easier...

“Your soulmark.” Lance traced the outline of the blue mark on his palm before cupping her cheek, his thumb gently skirting her own soulmark.

Pidge held her breath - she should’ve remained standing or sat on the opposite end of the room - and said, “No, I haven’t.”

“Really?” Lance drew closer, his gaze on her face and his thumb sliding dangerously low to her lips. “I think it has. We really _are_ getting closer, right?”

“I--” Her eyes fluttered closed as his breath fell against her face, and she tilted her head back, more than ready for a taste.

Pidge didn’t want to say no.

But she had to.

“Lance, please stop,” she said, deliberately pitching her voice louder than a whisper - loud enough that he wouldn’t mistake her intent. She turned her head, away from his face and away from the hand that so tenderly touched her.

“O-oh.” Lance leaned away, his brow furrowing. “But I thought--”

“I can’t.” Pidge swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. If she cried in front of him _again_ … “I-I know what you want from me, but I can’t give it to you. N-not now when I have something more important to worry about.”

“Pidge--”

She didn’t need to look at his face to witness his heartbreak, not when she couldn’t concentrate enough to shut out the emotions - both hers and his - flooding their bond.

Did he really feel so strongly about her?

“I don’t--I _can’t_ , Lance,” Pidge said, sniffing. “I-it’s too soon, and I haven’t found my family yet--”

“But you will!” Lance said, tone frantic as he reached for her hand.

Pidge pulled hers away and scowled, something about his self-serving insistence rankling her nerves. “I know I will!” she retorted. “But you’re just a distraction!”

When she made the mistake of looking at his face, she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

His anger hit her _hard_ right before the bond shut down.

“I’m sorry, Pidge,” Lance practically sneered while standing, “I didn’t realize this was the Garrison and that our relationship is all that _inconvenient_ to you.”

Pidge scrambled to her feet as he marched away from her and out of the room, shame churning in her gut. “Wait, Lance, I didn’t mean it like that!” She jogged to keep up with his long stride, desperately reaching out to him both in mind and in body, but didn’t catch up until he paused outside his bedroom.

“Lance--”

Lance slipped inside, but before Pidge could follow the door slid shut in her face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://hailqiqi.tumblr.com/post/175785712754/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-sixteen).

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Lance’s stomach sank.

He hadn’t spoken to Pidge after she’d called him a _distraction_. Not outside of work, anyway. Allura had called them all to the bridge, and then it had just been one thing after another.

And now they were en route back to Olkarion and she was knocking at his door. What was he supposed to say to her?

The knock came again, this time accompanied with a hesitant “Lance? Are you awake?”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “Shiro?”

Pause. “Yeah.” Another pause. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” Lance answered, sitting up and trying to look presentable. The door opened with a whoosh and Shiro walked in, a small smile on his face; Lance gestured towards the end of the bed and he sat down.

“I wanted to talk to you about the mission today,” Shiro began, without preamble.

Lance swallowed. That sinking feeling was back. “Look, I know I messed up by bringing Laika out, but…”

“Lance, no. That’s not it at all,” Shiro cut him off. “You did great in that respect.”

 _Oh_. “Uh… Then what did you wanna talk about? It doesn’t look like you’re here to congratulate me on that _awesome_ shot.”

Shiro smiled. “You’re right, but that shot was pretty incredible.” Lance grinned, warmth blossoming in his chest. “I wanted to talk to you about the _showboating_. And that whole ‘seventh wheel’ thing?”

The warmth vanished instantly. “Oh. That. Uh… It’s nothing. Bad day.”

“Are you sure? Because I can’t help but feel that it had something to do with Pidge.”

Lance shrugged. “Why would it have anything to do with Pidge?”

Shiro sighed and shifted, reaching behind Lance to grab his pillow and throw it at his chest. Lance caught it on reflex, blinking in confusion as Shiro then shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed, his back against the wall at the foot.

“Uh… What the cheese?”

“Normally I wouldn’t get involved,” he replied, stretching his arms above his head and shifting to get comfortable, “but we’re staring down the barrel at the toughest battle any of us have ever been in, so...”

Shiro gestured for Lance to copy his position and he did, hesitantly, leaning against the wall, knees bent, holding the pillow to his chest. “So what?”

“Heart-to-heart time.” Shiro pinned him with a look and Lance winced. “What’s going on with you and Pidge?”

Burying his face in the pillow, Lance let out a groan and said, “I don’t suppose I can get away with saying nothing?”

A chuckle, then Shiro flicked his ankle lightly. “Nope, sorry. Would you find it easier if I asked direct questions?”

Maybe? If he was being honest, Lance knew what he wanted to say, and he knew it’d probably help to talk about it. So he nodded, slowly. “Yeah, that’d work.”

“Okay. First thing’s first, then — you know none of us think of you as the seventh wheel, right? Not even Pidge.”

“I—”

“None of us, Lance,” he repeated firmly. “And I do know that’s not just the type of thing you can just stop thinking, but I want you to know that it’s true, regardless of what you might feel sometimes.”

Lance swallowed. “Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

“And am I right in thinking — correct me if I’m wrong here — that you started feeling that way for the same reason you were trying so hard to impress us earlier, and that that reason is connected to Pidge?”

Shiro was looking at him, one eyebrow raised, and Lance inwardly cursed himself for being so transparent. Was he really that easy to read? And oh man, that whole space ninja thing was just _embarrassing_. What the hell had he been thinking?

When all Lance did was look away and run a hand through his hair, Shiro prompted, “Come on, Lance. Spill it.”

“Ugh, fine.” He slouched against the wall, letting go of the pillow to rest his wrists on his knees. “She doesn’t want me as her soulmate, Shiro.”

If Shiro had decent bangs, his eyebrows would’ve been hidden from view. “And what makes you think that?”

“She said so!” He ran his hands through his hair again and shrugged, trying to play off how loudly his voice had risen without him meaning it to. “She called me a _distraction_ , Shiro. What else am I supposed to think?”

“Really?” Shiro’s voice was amused, and when Lance risked a glance a small smile was playing on his lips. “Katie said that? To _you_?”

Lance frowned. “It’s not funny, Shiro.”

Shiro let out a bark of laughter, then said, “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just that I was surprised when I found out you were soulmates. I always figured you guys were like oil and water.”

“Look, if you’re just gonna—”

“No, no, wait, let me talk.” Shiro waved his hands, trying to placate Lance despite the aggravating grin on his face. “Look, you don’t have much experience with girls, right? I mean, that’s _obvious_.”

Ouch. “You didn’t have to put it so bluntly.”

“Lance. Buddy.” Shiro leaned forward to pat Lance’s knee, and a pang of homesickness hit Lance as he was irresistibly reminded of Marco revealing one of his ‘expert tips’. “If a girl says you’re a distraction, that means she likes you.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

“You can’t be a distraction if you’re not _distracting_ ,” he pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “And what type of girls do _you_ find distracting?”

What type of girls did Lance find distracting…? Oh. _Oh_.

Realisation hit Lance like a sledgehammer, and he was still reeling when he mumbled the answer: “Girls I like.”

“There you go, then!” Shiro sat back against the wall, slapping his own knee in victory as he did. “She likes you! You should talk to her.”

“What? But I—”

“Lance, we’re about to face Zarkon. We’ll have some time on Olkarion. Talk to her, okay?”

The sudden shift in tone broke through Lance’s daze, and he frowned. “No.”

“No?” Shiro blinked.

“Yeah. No,” he repeated, looking back at Shiro with a frown. “The last three times we talked, I went to her. If she likes me so much, she can talk to me.”

They fell quiet for a moment while Shiro studied him, then the older man nodded slowly. “That’s fair enough. When she does, make sure you don’t block her out. I only met Katie a few times before all this, and she didn’t open up to people easily.”

Lance nodded, thinking. He could do that. If Shiro was right — and he should be, she’d almost kissed him! — then maybe Pidge would…

His thoughts trailed off as his mind caught on something.  “Hey, Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Katie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on the bus. I very rarely write Lance/Shiro interactions, so it was a fun exercise. I need to write these two more.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/175804249413/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-part-seventeen)

Sleeplessness and the constant buzz of work on the eve of their most important battle put Pidge on edge while they stayed on Olkarion, and even the great forest beyond the marvelous city couldn’t calm her the way it did the first time.

Sleeplessness, work, her family, and…Lance.

His eyes hadn’t so much as met hers since that doomed quarrel, and she couldn’t get his words out of her head.

_“We can return to Earth.”_

Pidge tossed and turned in her bundle of blankets underneath her desk in the Green Lion’s hangar. The hard floor dug into her shoulder, keeping her from getting comfortable, but even after Shiro insisted she go to bed her room held little appeal.

Guilt gnawed at her without a task to occupy her hands and her mind - guilt and _frustration_ that Lance avoided her so _thoroughly_.

If only he’d give her the chance to _explain_ —

Pidge needed a distraction.

She shoved her blankets away and perched on the edge of her stool, pulling her computer towards her. With her lip between her teeth, she watched the footage she found of Matt’s escape for the umpteenth time, hoping that something _new_ \- as if she hadn’t already poured over it enough - would stand out.

But this time the blurry projection only reminded her of how far she little she knew - and of Slav.

What sort of state would her brother be in when she found him? And never mind Matt - what of her _father_?

Soon she could seek them without Voltron tying her down, she told herself. Soon Pidge could explore the far reaches of the universe, and soon…Lance would be back on Earth.

Pidge rubbed her weary, itching eyes. She shivered, a chill creeping into the hangar and into her body, and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

It wasn’t enough, not when it wasn’t long ago that she didn’t sleep alone.

With the specter of the future weighing on her mind, Pidge stood and crept from the hangar, her feet treading the familiar path to Lance’s room…

…only for his voice to drift from the kitchen as she passed it.

“…don’t know, Hunk. It just feels like we’re caught in some dance.”

“One step forward and three steps back?”

“Something like that,” Lance grumbled, his voice muffled as if he spoke into his arms. “I mean, can you believe she didn’t even tell me her _name_?”

“I actually can,” Hunk replied. “You ever think of talking to her about it?”

“Oh, not you too…” Pidge leaned forward, straining to hear Lance’s words as they pitched lower. “I know we - all of us - might go our separate ways after this, but…”

“But?” Hunk prompted.

“I don’t know.” Lance sighed.

“Well, now’s the time to—oh, hey, Pidge!”

Pidge’s eyes widened as she accidentally stepped within the range of the sensors, the door sliding open before her to reveal Hunk, his eyebrows flying so high they nearly disappeared under his headband, and Lance slumped over the bar.

Lance spun around so fast he slipped off his stool, landing hard on his back. He groaned as he rolled onto his side, and Pidge, alarmed when he curled in on himself, sprinted towards him.

“Lance, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he said, waving her away and sitting up, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve had worse.”

“Yesterday you were moaning about stubbing your _toe_ ,” Hunk pointed out.

Pidge bit back an involuntary snicker as Lance turned red and retorted, “It quiznaking _hurt_ , okay?”

“I guess this means you don’t want an ice pack _this_ time then?” Hunk guessed, crossing his arms.

“Wait, no, hand me one!” Lance raised his hand. “Toss it to me!”

“Why me?” Hunk said. “Pidge can get it for you.”

Pidge gaped, but when Hunk jerked his head towards the freezer, she jumped into action.

It took her far enough away that she could hear the two of them conversing in angry whispers, but as she turned back with a towel-wrapped bundle of ice in one hand, Hunk clapped Lance on his uninjured shoulder and fled.

Lance glared after him, but something in his eyes softened when Pidge crouched beside him. “I can do that,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor. “It’s not even that bad.”

“It’s fine.” Pidge pressed the makeshift ice pack to his shoulder. “Don’t want to hurt your shooting arm right before a battle.”

Lance snorted. “I kind of need both arms to aim properly.”

At a loss for words, Pidge said nothing. But when Lance shifted, she opened her mouth, fearful that he’d leave before she found the words she needed, until—

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, voice low.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?” Her heart pounded, anxious about _everything_ that could come next, but she kept her eyes down, not sure she wanted to see the expression on his face.

“Your name,” Lance said. “Your _real_ name.”

“I don’t know,” Pidge admitted. She switched her hands, flexing the cold one to work some warmth into her fingers. “I…guess I didn’t think it was all that important.”

“Pidge, it’s your _name_.”

“I’m aware.” She rolled her eyes. “I think I just got so used to being Pidge - I went almost a whole year without anyone calling me Katie - that I never thought to be Katie again.” She sighed but finally found the wherewithal to look up.

Lance met her gaze, making the tightness in her chest unravel. “You’re weird, Pidge…or, uh, should I call you Katie now?”

Pidge shook her head and said, “ _That_ would be weird now, especially from you.”

Lance smiled. “That’s fair. And, uh, you don’t need to ice that anymore.” He tapped her hand.

Pidge dropped the ice pack and rubbed her hands together. After some internal battle crossed Lance’s face, he took her hands in his warmer ones.

A familiar and _welcome_ flutter filled her stomach.

Pidge bit her lip, her eyes on their joined hands, and said, “I’m sorry, Lance.”

When he didn’t respond, she dared a glance at his face.

“Look, Pidge…” He let go of her hands, leaving them colder than before he held them. “I like you, but this whole… _thing_ between us is getting on my nerves.”

Her damn heart skipped a beat at hearing it so plainly. “I-I like you too,” she said. “I just…I didn’t mean to push you away like that.”

“Oh, so that’s why you insult me afterward?”

“What? I don’t insult you!”

“Oh, really?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “Remember Beta Traz when you couldn’t _believe_ I was a sharpshooter?”

“I…” Stunned and with a guilty twist in her heart, Pidge sought for something to say before settling on, “You proved me wrong, didn’t you?”

“I—” A flush filled Lance’s cheeks, an endearingly goofy smile stretching his face, and he said, “I guess I did, huh?”

“Yeah.” Pidge returned his smile, but it faltered when she remembered her purpose here - their last face-to-face conversation, and the one she desperately didn’t want to be _the_ last. “I shouldn’t have said that. You mean a lot to me, Lance.”

“I believe you, Pidge, and we don’t have to date if you don’t want to.”

Maybe she did…but before she could contradict him, Lance continued, “I get that you still haven’t found your family—”

“—and you want to return to Earth after this fight,” Pidge said, her heart growing heavy again.

“Yeah.” Lance took her hand in his, gaze locked onto them - on his blue palm pressed to hers.

“So what about…us?” Pidge wondered, tone almost a whisper.

“For starters, you got any other game-changing secrets?” Lance flashed a slight smirk, something that made a pleasant warmth spread through her chest. “You have an evil twin I should avoid?”

Pidge laughed, feeling lighter than she had in a long time - almost impossibly light for the eve of a battle. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Uh no…” Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Time to sleep?”

“That too,” she said, “but I was thinking…do you want to watch the sunrise with me? Something pretty to see before we take down Zarkon…”

Lance’s suspicion gave way to a smile, and Pidge’s soulmark grew warm. “That sounds perfect to me.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 

Olkarion sunrises were spectacular. The deep purple of night slowly gave way to a green backdrop littered with splashes of red and blue before the yellow sky of an Olkarion quintant began to take over. It was like a mad artist was standing over the planet, slashing away with his paintbrush as he rushed to get it finished by dawn but unable to stop himself from changing his mind about what colour he wanted to use.

It didn’t hold a candle to the sunrise over Varadero, with its rare empty white sands, clear waters turned golden in the light, and swathes of every shade of blue imaginable spilt across the sky. Still, as far as last sunrises alive went, it wasn’t bad.

Not that Lance was really watching it, anyway. His eyes were turned to the sky but his attention was taken up entirely by the shock of honey hair in his periphery and the way it tickled his face; by the soft breaths and murmured observations that were the only noise in the still silence of the room; by the warm weight on his chest and the way it felt like home.

They were in the room the team had stood in earlier, watching the sun rise over the massive teludav that would seal their fate that afternoon. They’d dragged one of the sofas right up to the glass wall and climbed over the back, initially draping themselves sleepily over opposite ends but soon inching closer and closer together because honestly — who were they fooling? By the time the sun had started to peek over the horizon he was lying on his back with Pidge sprawled out on top of him, one hand lazily toying with the fabric of her pyjama top, and feeling way more comfortable than he really should when he was running on zero sleep on the morn of battle.

This was nice. This was _right_.

This was...like, three weeks too late, and possibly the last time ever.

That thought sent a rush of annoyance through him, one he quickly tried to push aside because screw it, it was nice _now_ and now was all that mattered, right?

He hadn’t dismissed it quickly enough, apparently, because a second later Pidge stirred. “Lance?”

_Quiznak_. “Yeah?”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was sleepy, confused, and concerned all in one, and he couldn’t help but smile when she poked him in the ribs. “And don’t say ‘nothing’; I’ll know you’re lying. Something’s annoying you.”

“Hazard of being soulmates, huh?” he joked, chuckling when she nodded against his chest, her satisfaction radiating through the bond. _Smug little—_

“So?” she prodded. “What’s got your goat? ...Or should I say lion?”

Lance laughed. “No, you definitely should _not_ say ‘lion’. Pidge, that’s terrible!” When their laughter died down, he ran his hand down her back with a sigh. “I was just thinking that this is nice, and we should have started doing this a long time ago.”

The silence in the room was heavy for a heartbeat, then Pidge raised herself on her elbows to look at him. “And today we’re facing Zarkon and might die, right?”

“Uh, no, we’re gonna win,” he retorted, forcing a smirk. She definitely knew that his conviction was fake — _hazard of being soulmates_ — but sometimes you gotta fake it till ya make it, and Lance _really_ wanted to make it today.

She searched his eyes for a moment, then smiled sadly. “And if we win—”

“ _When._ ”

“— _when_ we win, you’re going home, right?”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he wanted to, but the words died on his lips.

Her gaze was soft, warm, impossibly fond; her tousled hair fell into her eyes, and he found his fingers itching to smooth it back. Her skin was tinged green in the glow of the sunrise, her soulmark blending seamlessly into her features, the faintest of smiles playing at her lips.

The effect was breathtaking. Spellbinding. Pidge was an ethereal goddess, a space apparition, a—

_He was staring_.

She blinked, her head tilted cutely in confusion. “Lance?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Pidge’s whole body jolted. “What?! _Now_?!”

“Uh...yeah?” he answered, his cheeks burning as he tried to play it off because _what the quiznaking crows’ feet now was not the time for a first kiss_. “Actually, uh, it doesn’t—”

“Okay. Sure.”

He snapped his gaze back to her. “What?”

“I said, _okay_ ,” she repeated, not quite meeting his gaze, her cheeks flushed a deep purple in the unearthly glow.

Before he had a chance to react his field of vision was suddenly full of Pidge, her glittering gaze all he could see as she moved to close the distance between them, stopping to hover barely an inch from his face. “Are you gonna kiss me, or not?”

_Hmm._ He slid a hand up to cup her jaw and leaned in, revelling in the way her eyes fluttered closed when his breath ghosted across her lips — then pulled away. “Not.”

“What the quiznak?!” She thumped him on the chest and tried to untangle herself, but he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her close as he laughed. “Lance!”

He smirked at her. “It wasn’t the right time.”

“What?! You’re the one who asked!” she protested, jabbing a finger in his ribs.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he answered, playing with her short tresses while she shifted and got comfortable again, her head once more resting on his chest as she watched the sunrise. Exasperation flowed down the bond between them and he grinned, but the good feelings disappeared when he remembered what they’d been talking about.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, followed by a bite of anger. Couldn’t he just have one damn morning with his soulmate?

This was gonna be another one of _those_ conversations, wasn’t it?

“Lance?”

Lance sighed. Apparently he was really, _really_ bad at hiding his feelings. If that was the case, though, then there was no point avoiding it, so he gave a light tug to a strand of her hair. “You were asking me something?”

“Oh. Yeah…” she trailed off, this time keeping her gaze on the window. “You’re going home after this, right?”

“I _want_ to.” Lance hesitated. Why did having a soulmate have to lead to so many upsetting conversations? Pidge was going to say she’d be heading off to the farthest reaches of the universe, and he was supposed to smile and be supportive because that’s what soulmates did, right?

Better get on that being supportive thing, then. Deep breath; gotta fool yourself your heart won’t break or she’ll know.  He swallowed. “You’re going to go look for your family, right?”

“Yeah…” she said slowly, nodding. “I at least have somewhere to start now, so…”

“You’ll find them, Pidge.” If anyone could, she could.

His conviction must have carried across the bond because he felt her smile against him, and she snuggled further into his hold. This time, Lance successfully pushed all thoughts of anything more than an hour in the future out of his mind so that he could immerse himself in the moment.

They lay in silence for a while, hands drifting lazily, offering comfort without words and enjoying a last moment of sleepy peace before the big fight.

Pidge broke the silence. “Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I be really selfish?” She shifted herself up onto her elbows to look at him, without waiting for an answer. “Can you come with me?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“To find my dad and Matt. I…” She looked away for a second before meeting his eyes again, her gaze resolute. “I really don’t want to be out here without you.”

“Pidge,” he breathed, one hand coming up to cup her jaw. “I…”

She cut him off, her voice frantic. “Look, I know it’s really selfish of me. I know how much you’ve been missing your family and your mom and the beach and everything but—”

“Pidge,” he repeated.

“Uh, I was thinking that to make it up to you, once we find them and go back maybe I can come live in Cuba? Then we can be closer to your family and—”

“ _Pidge_.”

“Like, I know I’ve never been to Cuba but you love it and it sounds nice so—”

Lance leaned in and kissed her.

Pidge gasped in surprise, frozen stiff in his arms, but less than a second later her arms wound around his neck and she melted against him, soft lips moving against his tentatively. Lance bit back a gasp of his own as her fingers brushed the skin of his shoulders, sending tingles of electricity zipping down his spine, and pressed closer, trying to make sure she could _feel_ everything he wanted to say but hadn’t quite found the words for yet.

An answering warmth echoed down the bond, tinged with mirth when their noses bumped and he nipped at her lower lip. As far as first kisses went, Lance thought, this was a good one; new but comfortable, soft but wanting, mixed with giggles and sighs as each learnt about the other, and all bathed in the light of a distant sunrise.

A good start to forever.


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted [here](https://sp4c3-0ddity.tumblr.com/post/176560422058/smack-kiss-fall-in-love-epilogue)
> 
> this one took longer than any previous part did for me...but i was really pleased with how it turned out, and i hope all of you are as well <33
> 
>  
> 
> (I had to pop in here and add that this is the most beautiful thing I have ever read and I am so glad that she wrote it - Hail)

A lifetime of avoiding mirrors - of trying too hard not to care about the reflection that stared back at her - brought Pidge up short the morning after they arrived on Earth.

Her breath caught in her throat, the sight of her own face different than she remembered ever seeing in this bathroom.

Absurdly she thought her mother might’ve installed a hologram, something to distort the image and show off the best _look_ , but her mother was nothing if not practical.

(Sometimes a bit _too_ practical in Pidge’s opinion.)

Pidge touched the corner of her mouth, right where the center of her spiraling soulmark lay - or _used_ to.

“Huh,” she said, tracing the nonexistent swirls that haunted her for much of her life before erupting with color. “It’s already gone.”

Perhaps she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that one day she would wake up to find it gone after months of fading - after years of building a relationship with the one that splattered her face and her _life_ with green and blue and every shade between.

She never suspected it would happen so soon, and now that she spotted no trace of it - almost as if it never was - she bit her lip.

A sharp knock on the door jolted Pidge from her thoughts, and impatience that wasn’t hers stabbed her. “You almost done in there, Pidge?”

A smile pushed at her lips as she retorted, “What’s wrong, Lance? You forget a step from your beauty routine?”

Lance snorted. “No, I just want to make sure we’re not late to the ceremony.”

Pidge turned her back to the mirror - to her unfamiliar reflection - and opened the door. She stared up at Lance - at her soulmate and boyfriend - and asked, “Does Commander Iverson still scare you?”

Red filled his cheeks, and he avoided her gaze as he replied, “Not at all, Pidge.”

She smirked and pointed out, “I can tell you’re lying. And don’t worry”--she took his hand and interlaced their fingers--”I’ll protect you from his wrath.” When Lance met her eyes, she turned his hand over and traced a spiral on his palm that was no longer there. “I’d be happy to return the favor.”

* * *

“Wait, Pidge!”

Pidge paused before she slipped on her helmet, turning to face Lance as he sprinted towards her in...full armor. “What’re you doing here?” she wondered. “I’m about to leave--”

“I’m coming with you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise - though, from the steely resolve and gut-wrenching _worry_ coming off him in waves, she shouldn’t have been. “What?”

“You’ll need backup.” Lance rested his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowing. “I get that you want to move quickly and as sneakily as possible so we don’t have to bring my Lion, but--”

“No.”

“--you should have someone watching your back and--”

“Lance,” Pidge interrupted, and when he blinked, startled, she insisted, “I’m doing this alone.”

“Why?” he demanded, his arms gesturing wide. “You don’t have to!”

“I do,” she said. She put on her helmet and turned towards her Lion. “This is my mission, not yours.”

“Oh, you’re _still_ on that?” Lance crossed his arms, scowling as hurt and anger permeated their bond and struck Pidge in the chest. “I’m your _soulmate_!”

“For quiznak’s sake, Lance,” Pidge snapped, “this has nothing to do with that!”

“Then what?”

“I’m searching for my _brother_!” she said, her limbs trembling. “This is too _personal_ to share, especially if you’re needed here!”

“But--”

“This has _nothing_ to do with you, Lance!” Pidge hissed. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her heart pounding with unspent ire, but Lance’s feelings — almost too complicated to untangle — mingled with them.

It was messy sometimes, even with someone whose very emotions you could sense.

_Especially_ with someone whose emotions you could sense.

Pidge couldn’t always tell where hers ended and Lance’s began — it hadn’t been long since they’d opened themselves up to each other — but she knew that sense of _resignation_ wasn’t hers.

She reached out to him, to touch his arm or hand, but he stepped away. “Lance--”

“Why are you still here?” Lance said, his gaze stony. “Your personal mission’s waiting for you.” He spun on his heel and left her without so much as a goodbye.

Without so much as a kiss.

Pidge boarded the Green Lion with a heavy heart, shared between two.

* * *

“It’s _not_ Hunk?”

Pidge rolled her eyes at her father, but her hands over the computer keyboard didn’t falter. “It’s not,” she confirmed.

“Someone you left on Earth?”

Pidge swallowed, worrying her lip between her teeth. She should’ve expected this - her father’s nosiness coupled with the desire to catch up on all the time spent apart - but her chest tightened every time someone mentioned Lance, even if not by name.

They hadn’t spoken more than “necessary” since she had left to find Matt. Even when she had tried to apologize afterward — when she wanted nothing more than his arms wrapped tightly around her — he’d refused to look at her and snidely told her he didn’t wish to intrude on her _personal time_.

How could someone so close to her hurt her so much?

(How could _she_ hurt _him_?)

“It’s not this...Keith that Shiro’s mentioned before, is it?”

Her hands froze, and she finally turned in her chair to face her father. “It’s not Keith either.” She sighed, wringing the hem of her sweater and staring at her feet as they scuffed against the floor. “Lance is my soulmate.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Pidge smiled, his incredulity making something inside her soften, reminding her of the good old quintants when she was just as confused and heartsick as she was now. “You don’t have to be so surprised about it, Dad.”

“But he’s so…”

“Not a nerd?”

“ _Goofy_.”

A laugh burst from her, and she promised, “I’ll tell him you said that.”

* * *

The energy from the quintessence field lingered within Pidge, hastening both heartbeat and limbs, and once she knew Shiro would survive her relief drove her to launch herself at the person closest to her.

It just so happened to be Lance.

Her arms snaked around his neck while his immediately fit snugly around her waist, tugging her against him, his face buried in her neck. She breathed in shaky gasps and half-sobs, overwhelmed by adrenaline and emotions, by grief and glee and all that lay between.

Lance’s feelings flooded the bond, compounding her own, and when she dared to tilt her head back and look him in the eye, she could no longer stand the yawning gap separating them.

Pidge kissed him, her hands slipping into his hair and pulling his head down to her level. She tried to pour everything — an apology, a confession, a reassurance that _none of this was his fault_ — into it, every word that ever stuck in her throat.

Lance cupped her face, answering her kiss with one of his own until they drew apart to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Pidge blurted. “I sh-shouldn’t have said that - you’re my family too, you’ve been with me this whole time and I love you and I should’ve told you that sooner. I—” She cut herself off when she noticed Lance smiling, his face as red as hers must’ve been. “What’re you laughing about?” she wondered, suspicious.

“Just...why are we like this, Pidge?” Lance asked. “Why does it take a universe-destroying battle for this?”

“This one would’ve destroyed more realities than our own, Lance,” Pidge corrected on reflex, but when he shot her an unimpressed glance, she grinned sheepishly and said, “I don’t know, but we can work on it on the way back to Earth.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lance said before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Pidge smiled, her chest warming while some of the tension in her eased. “By the way, do you want to know what my dad thought of you?”

“Y-you told him about me?”

“Yeah.” Pidge rested her palm against his cheek. “He thinks you’re a goofball too.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you too, Pidge.”

She giggled. “I know.”

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Pidge wondered after the ceremony — and after enough international dignitaries to fill the old United Nations headquarters had shaken her hand and congratulated her on saving the universe.

“Tell you what?” With the hand not holding tight to hers, Lance waved at someone behind her.

“That my mark is gone.” Pidge touched her chin, her eyes wide, for without a mirror she hardly dared believe it.

Lance glanced down, a slight frown twisting his lips. “I thought you would’ve noticed yourself,” he admitted, shrugging. “And you never were as bothered by it as other people.”

“That’s...true,” Pidge conceded with a wry smile.

“Besides,” Lance said, tugging her around to face him, “this just means I have to find some other way to make sure everyone knows you’re taken.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, not a little annoyed by his choice of words. “Oh, yeah?” She snorted and, at the sight of his face draining of color, added, “Choose your next words carefully, Lance.”

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and said, “Not really where I envisioned doing this, but okay.”

“Doing—” Pidge’s jaw dropped as Lance knelt on one knee in front of her. “W-what’re you doing?” she demanded.

“Good thing I thought to bring this,” Lance said, ignoring her question and reaching into his jacket pocket. He grinned at her — undoubtedly enjoying the heat spreading over her cheeks — and pulled out a tiny box that sat in the palm of his hand — the same hand once decorated with a soulmark.

“Katie—”

“Marry me,” said Pidge.

“Wait, hold on—”

Pidge joined him on her knees, taking his hands — the box cupped between them — and leaning towards him so that his breath warmed her face. “Marry me, Lance,” she repeated as her heart skipped a beat.

Well, at least she knew he wouldn’t refuse.

Lance’s shoulders slumped. “You couldn’t even let me finish the question?”

Pidge laughed and shook her head.

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes. But he kissed her softly on the lips and said, “I’ll marry you, but only if you wear the ring.”

She smiled, her chest light. “As long as it’s pretty.”

“Very,” Lance said, letting go of her hands to flip the box open. “Your brother helped me pick it out.”

Pidge offered her left hand, Lance gently taking it and sliding a ring onto her finger.

She felt along it, the tip of her thumb skimming over a ridged wave pattern, the metal colored a dark green and engraved with a pattern of wires.

It was simple rather than ostentatious, but elegant.

Pidge loved it.

“Do you recognize the pattern?” Lance asked, his eyebrows high while his anxiety tinged their bond.

Pidge frowned, looking a little closer at the engraving...only to realize the wire-like curves were _blue_.

“My soulmark.”

“Well, as close as I could get with a ring,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “D-do you—”

“Yes.”

“For quiznak’s sake, at least let me finish one question!”

Pidge laughed and flung her arms around his neck. “I love it,” she reassured him, pressing her lips to his until his scowl softened. “And I love you.”

(She didn’t remember their audience until they all burst into applause.)

 


End file.
